


Glasses are Cool

by TeachUsSomethingPlease



Series: The Lightning in the Vortex [1]
Category: Doctor Who, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: BAMF Harry Potter, Being Brought Up in Space Has Got to Do Odd Things with Your Thoughts, Crossover, F/M, Gen, Harry Potter was Raised by Other(s), I mean, M/M, Sort Of, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-27
Updated: 2020-11-24
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:34:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26132005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeachUsSomethingPlease/pseuds/TeachUsSomethingPlease
Summary: The Doctor thinks Dumbledore is irresponsible. Rory thinks Harry is going to get pneumonia. Amy just likes the baby. Baby Harry wants his uncle and his godfather. The Doctor obliges. Dumbledore will be very confused at the resulting eleven year old. Sirius, for his part, thinks it's a great prank. Remus just wishes he could get the Slitheen goop out of his jacket.When the 11th Doctor and his Ponds find a child haphazardly dumped on the doorstep of a thoroughly unpleasant woman, the obvious thing to do is take him in. And then abide by the baby's requests, which involve finding a werewolf and breaking out a prisoner. Ten years later, the Doctor drops his humans off in a nice place, just in time for Harry to meet his destiny.
Relationships: Amy Pond/Rory Williams, Eleventh Doctor & Amy Pond & Rory Williams, Eleventh Doctor & Harry Potter, Eleventh Doctor/River Song, Harry Potter & Amelia Pond & Rory Williams, Sirius Black & Remus Lupin & Harry Potter, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Series: The Lightning in the Vortex [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2026301
Comments: 33
Kudos: 299





	1. The Travellers Take Azkaban (And Harry)

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The Saviour, Child of the TARDIS, Son of a Mad Man](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/674929) by blackcatkuroi. 



> I don't own Dr Who. Geronimo!

If there was one thing the Doctor knew, it was that the TARDIS was in no way a dumb box. She was sentient, she was strong-willed, and she liked to dump him into situations that ranged from mildly dangerous to life-threatening in which the only constant was that he was needed.

"Where are we?" Amy asked, jumping out of the police box and tugging her boyfriend-now-husband out with her.

"Well," the Doctor replied, stepping out, "We're meant to be in Venice."

"I get that last time we went to Venice was a disaster," Rory said, "But last time I checked, I'm pretty sure Venice had water."

"Well, yes." the Doctor spun around, taking in his surroundings. "We're not in Venice. Well, the good news is we're still on Earth, and not too far off from our time, either. Hmm… nineteen-eighties, I'd say. Somewhere in England."

"At least we haven't landed in the middle of a war," Rory mumbled.

"Rory Pond, I haven't landed in the middle of a war in ages," the Doctor huffed.

"It's Williams!" Rory protested.

Amy rolled her eyes slightly. "Come on, boys." She grabbed the two men by the arms and started walking. "Let's go."

"Where are we going?" Rory asked.

"I don't know," Amy replied. "But we'll be going nowhere if you keep bickering."

"Ah, yes, good point, Pond. Does anyone see any road signs?" The Doctor glanced around. "Ah, there's one." He broke free of Amy's grip and trotted across the narrow road towards it, reading the words aloud. "Little Whinging." He paused, straightening up. "Well, that's an awful name for a place."

"Mhmm… well then, come on," Amy said. "We know where we are now. Wonder what there is to do here?"

"Well, it's definitely night-time," Rory said, pointing at the moon. "If I was a person around here, I would be asleep."

"Don't be boring," the Doctor scoffed. "Those are boring people. We're time travellers! We get to do what we like."

"You taught all the children at our wedding to dance like you," Rory grumbled. "You can't dance, Doctor."

"As I said, we do what we like," the Doctor replied cheerily.

"Uh, boys?" Amy had skipped ahead to the end of the street and was peering around the corner. "You might want to see this."

Rory and the Doctor walked over and looked around the corner. "What's he doing?" Rory whispered. A man with a massive white beard, long hair of the same colour, and a long, flowing robe was walking down the street, holding something in his hand. As he did so, the light from the streetlamps was being extinguished, orbs of brightness flying from the bulbs and down to the strange object.

"Doctor?" Amy asked.

"Shh, Pond," the Doctor murmured. "Just watch. He looks familiar... I wonder where I met him?"

As he man completed his task of extinguishing all the streetlamps along the street, he paused, turned around, and bent down slightly, apparently talking to a tabby cat that was sitting stiffly on the wall. In a moment, he stepped back, and the cat jumped off the wall, turning into a woman with the same robes as the old man.

"Okay. Weird," Rory commented.

"Shh!" the Doctor said sharply. "Don't let them hear us."

The woman and the man seemed to argue for a while, until they both stopped and turned around. There was a faint grumbling sound, like an engine, getting louder and louder until, out of the sky, an enormous man came flying out of the sky – on a _motorbike with a sidecar_. The enormous man hopped off, gently pulled a bundle out of the sidecar, and handed it over to the old man, who inspected it carefully. Then, seemingly satisfied, he pulled a letter from his robes, tucked it in with the bundle, and placed the package carefully on the step of a nearby house. The huge man started crying rather loudly, blowing his nose on an oversized handkerchief with a noise like a trumpet; the woman seemed to try to comfort him in an awkward way. Then, the three people left the street. Turning around at the threshold, the old man raised his hand once more and light returned to the street. Then, he walked off into the shadows and vanished.

"Well, that was weird," Amy said, after a moment.

The Doctor clicked his fingers. "Ah! That's why I remembered the face. Albus Dumbledore! Ran into him a long time ago – well, the 5th me did. Runs a school of magic in Scotland – at least, he did in the seventies… God complex only slightly smaller than mine."

"Sorry, school of magic?" Rory crossed his arms. "Really, Doctor?"

"You really should tell us these things," Amy grumbled.

"Well, technically it's illegal," the Doctor sighed. "You're not magic, you're not meant to know…"

"Since when do you care about the law?" Amy asked.

"Since it's convenient – okay, Ponds, let's go find out what's going on!" And with that, the Doctor bounced off down the road. "Oh, there's a baby in the bundle."

"A what?" Amy asked.

"A baby, you know, small human being that cries a lot. I'm reading the letter, come over, will you?"

The Ponds – Williams, really, not that the Doctor would ever hear of it – did as they were told and listened as the Doctor read the letter aloud. "Well, that explains nothing," Amy said.

"I understood it," the Doctor said. "We missed a war by about an hour, see, I told you I haven't landed in one for ages... Shame about the Potters, really – although, now I think of it, the kid was a bit of a toe-rag as an eleven-year-old… still, most people grow up eventually, life is life…"

"Why would you leave a child on a doorstep in October?" Rory asked, scooping up the bundle. "You're asking for it to get – to get pneumonia, or something!"

"Mmm, you're probably right, Rory," the Doctor agreed, putting down the letter and taking the child – Harry, apparently. He took out his sonic screwdriver and scanned the child. "He's alive."

"According to this, whoever lives here – Petunia – she's Harry's last living relative," Amy said.

"Well, she wasn't exactly fond of magic when I was last here and judging by the arguing that other woman was doing, she still isn't much," the Doctor observed. "Not very clever."

"They left a baby in the cold," Rory grumbled. "How much more proof of not very clever do you need?"

"Yes, right," the Doctor agreed. "Oh. He's awake. Hello, Harry."

The baby blinked up at the Doctor and gurgled. "Fuh!" He declared.

The Doctor frowned. "What's wrong with my bow tie?"

"I told you your fashion sense was wonky," Amy commented.

"Why are you talking back to him like he was criticising your clothes, anyway?" Rory asked.

"I speak baby," the Doctor informed them.

"You – of course he does."

The Doctor poked the baby's nose, making him giggle and grab at the Doctor's finger. "That settles it, then. We've acquired a baby."

"Doctor, I don't think you can just take a baby," Amy pointed out.

"I'll leave a note," the Doctor said indignantly. "Honestly, Pond. Besides, Petunia would make a terrible carer."

"We're kidnapping a baby," Rory sighed. "I thought this would be simple…"

"When is the Doctor simple?" Amy asked.

"True."

The Doctor scribbled out a note, slipped in in the mail-flap, and turned around. "Come on then, Ponds, we have a baby to raise."

"Ah Pah! Ah nuu… Do ah!" Harry cooed.

"And possibly some miscellaneous humans to pick up."

"You've got us," Rory protested.

"Yes, well, Harry insists, and who am I to turn him down?" the Doctor beamed.

"You're in charge. Sometimes," Amy pointed out.

"We have a baby," the Doctor said sternly. "Here, Harry, Uncle Rory's taking you now."

"He's actually serious," Rory whispered to his wife.

Amy shrugged. "I'd like a baby. This one's cute."

"Aren't… all babies cute? Wait, what's that – oh, his head's bleeding too, who leaves a baby with a bleeding head on a doorstep?"

"See? You're attached already."

* * *

"Ooh, a forest!" Amy exclaimed, stepping out of the Tardis. "Wait. Why are we looking for someone in a forest?"

"Don't ask me, ask the TARDIS," the Doctor said cheerfully. "Alright, Harry, time to find Uncle Number One."

Harry clapped his hands. "Nu-ee… nu-ee!"

"Now what?" Rory closed the TARDIS door and glanced around. "We can't just walk off, we'll get lost, and lost with a baby in a forest sounds like a bad idea."

"We sit down, then," the Doctor said, "And wait for the forest creatures to come to us!"

After about an hour, Amy went back to the TARDIS, grabbed a pen, and started playing Hangman with Rory. She lost, badly. Harry watched with interest, not quite comprehending what they were doing, but thinking it must be fun. Almost as fun as his broom, by the way Amy was giggling.

"It was something you wouldn't guess!" Rory protested.

"Yeah, well, I'd expect better from you than to write the medical word for arse in front of the baby."

"You just said it aloud! Babies can't read, Amy!"

After two hours, Harry started smacking the Doctor's knee. "Nah num."

"He's hungry. What do babies eat… he's about a year old, isn't he? Hold on, I'll be back in a bit." The Doctor plopped Harry down in Amy's arms and slipped back into the TARDIS.

Harry tugged at Amy's hair. "Mama?"

"No, not mama," Amy told him gently. "Just Amy."

"Mama nah," Harry told her sadly.

"I know," Amy replied softly. Rory patted both of them awkwardly.

"FOUND IT!" The doctor exploded out of the TARDIS door and handed Harry a small, roundish fruit, mottled rainbow colours and with a shiny skin. Harry blinked as the Doctor cheerfully proclaimed, "They feed it to the children in the future. Nice and tasty. I think it's a descendant of plums, but I'm not sure…"

"Nah num?" Harry asked.

"Yep! Eat up, Harry," the Doctor proclaimed.

Harry smushed his face into the fruit and bit it. It fizzed a little and he giggled.

After three hours, a man showed up pointing a stick at them.

"Who are you, and why do you have Harry?"

"Nu-ee!" Harry cheered, waving the half-eaten remains of his snack at the newcomer.

"Hello! Are you Harry's uncle? Only I don't know where we are. Or when we are. What year is it?"

"How can you not know where you are?" the man asked incredulously, still pointing a wand in their general direction.

"Well, we're in England. Probably," Amy piped up.

The man frowned. "You're in Wales. It's 1981."

"I got the decade right!" The Doctor cheered.

Rory looked at the baby in his wife's arms. "You know this makes Harry old enough to be our older brother?"

"What the hell is going on?" the newcomer yelled.

"Okay, calm down… ooh, this is messy, actually… how about you come inside and we'll explain? It's cold enough for a baby tonight."

The man tilted his head slightly, still frowning. "Roll up your sleeves."

The Doctor obeyed. Confused, Rory did so too, then rolled up Amy's sleeves for her. The man seemed to deflate slightly with relief. "What's going on?"

The Doctor sighed. "Come inside." He pulled out his sonic screwdriver and scanned around. "Ah, you've been with others?"

"Order work," the man said tightly.

"The war's over," Rory said.

The man looked from Rory, to the Doctor, to Harry in Amy's arms. Realisation seemed to dawn slowly and painfully on his face. "They didn't…?"

Harry made a mournful sound. "Ma – ma nah."

"I'm sorry, Mister – er, sorry, Harry didn't give a name. We picked Harry up off a doorstep in Surrey – Little Whinging?"

The man, who had been settling into some form of grief, choked. "Sirius left Harry with _Petunia?_ "

"Is Sirius the old guy?" Amy asked.

The man said a few words that definitely weren't for Harry's ears. The baby in question found it amusing. "See-ee-ah?"

* * *

Lupin, even after he'd gotten over the initial shock, refused to let go of Harry for six hours. He held the baby tight to his chest, sometimes whispered and sometimes cried, and gently rocked the Harry until he fell asleep. That was perfectly fine with everyone else; the Doctor found more food for the baby, Rory took a nap, and Amy drew on his face while he slept. Eventually, though, he got up, handed Harry back to the Doctor, and asked where the bathroom was.

"That way. Probably. The rooms move, sometimes, when the TARDIS feels like it. Come straight back when you're done, or you can get lost in there," the Doctor warned.

"See-ee-ah," Harry grumbled.

"Soon," the Doctor promised. "Let Remus grieve first."

"Wee-ma nuu-ee?" Harry asked.

"Yep," the Doctor replied. "Hey, it's been hours, are you hungry yet?"

"Nah num!" Harry cheered.

Remus arrived back from trying to burn his emotions out of himself to find the Doctor laughing as Harry ate his fruit by covering his entire face with it. Against all odds, he smiled.

* * *

"Why are we in Azkaban?" Remus asked, aghast, as he stared around the hallway they had materialized in.

"Oh, is that where we are?" the Doctor asked.

Remus turned to Rory, who was on Harry duty. "Someone has to stay back with Harry. It's not safe. The dementors will be horrible for him."

"What's a dementor?" Amy asked.

"It's like… think of a vampire," Remus explained. "But it's always drinking from you, and instead of blood, it drinks happiness. They can also kiss you –"

"What?" Rory interjected. "Sorry, but kiss you?"

"That's what they call it when they suck out your soul," Remus said delicately.

"Wizards aren't always very pleasant," the Doctor observed.

Remus snorted. "Believe me, I know."

"Alright," the Doctor said. "Pond –"

"Which one?" Amy asked.

"You, Pond. Take Harry and stay in the TARDIS while we get Serious."

"Sirius," Remus corrected almost automatically.

"Why do I stay back?" Amy asked. "No… offense, Rory."

"You look too much like Harry's mum," the Doctor said practically. "There's no point in giving this guy a heart attack."

"See-ee-ah ah-tah!" Harry giggled.

"Alright, but I expect an fully story when you get back," Amy told them. "Come on, Harry, let's go do something interesting. How about a game?"

"Fuh," Harry agreed.

Amy and Harry disappeared into the TARDIS and the three remaining men stepped out into the prison. "Not very good security is it?" the Doctor remarked.

"It's easy to get in," Remus said. "Impossible to get out."

"I don't think the Doctor knows what impossible means," Rory commented.

"Of course I do, Pond, it means, come and beat me, Doctor."

"What do we do about the dementors?" Rory asked.

"There's a spell that repels them, a Patronus," Remus explained. "I hope I can still cast it…" he frowned, incanted, " _Expecto Patronum!_ " and watched his patronus wander around them. Rory noticed the cold recede a little as Remus sighed in relief. "Let's hope it lasts."

"If not, we run," the Doctor declared. He glanced down at a prisoner. "That him?"

"No."

"That one?"

"No."

"What about that one?"

"That's Bellatrix Lestrange, and she's a woman," Remus said, looking oddly at the Doctor.

"Mmm… What does this guy look like?"

Remus barely resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "Black hair, grey eyes. Kind of noble-looking, if that makes sense – Bellatrix is his cousin, I think, not that she'd admit it… A bit bigger than me."

"Okay, so not that one?" The Doctor indicated

"No!"

"Right, right… ooh, what about that one?" The Doctor pointed to a cell in the corner.

"Sirius!" Remus scrambled over and shot a spell through the bars. "Sirius, wake up! Padfoot!"

"Mmm… Moony? What'cha doing… Wormtail didn't get you too, did he?"

"Aguamenti," Remus said sharply, and Sirius sat up spluttering and spitting out water.

"Why – who's that?" Sirius asked sleepily, indicating the Doctor and Rory.

"Um, I'm Rory, and I'm a – what, again?"

"Muggle, Rory's a muggle. I'm the Doctor and I'm an alien."

"Mmm… I'm dreaming," Sirius decided, before laying back down gloomily.

Remus shot another spell and Sirius yelped like a kicked puppy, sitting back up again. "Sirius, what in the name of Merlin's saggy left is going on?"

Sirius turned to them. "You… you really…"

"Sirius, we need an explanation," Remus said sternly. "Why. Are. You. In. Prison.

"Wormtail," he said softly. "It was Wormtail. I told James to switch Secret Keepers, said Wormtail would be less obvious and they wouldn't go after him, and he went to You-Know-Who, I told James to use Peter, I KILLED THEM!" Sirius looked wild for a moment, before he continued babbling. "And – and Dumbledore, he took Harry, Hagrid came and said Dumbledore wanted Harry, and Peter, he cut off his finger, he blew them up, all those muggles, and they think he's dead… I killed Prongs and Lily, Moony, I killed them…"

"Sirius…" Remus sighed and sat down on the other side of the bars. "Merlin, Padfoot…"

"So, this Peter guy went to the guy on the opposite side of the war and – and spilt, or something?" Rory asked.

"Dirty rat. We should have known," Sirius spat bitterly.

"How do we know he's telling the truth?" Rory whispered to the Doctor.

Remus seemed to be thinking along the same lines. "So everyone thinks you blew Peter up, then?"

Sirius nodded furiously.

Remus bit his lip, closed his eyes, and levelled his wand at the cell. "Swear it."

"I, Sirius Black, swear on my magic, life, good looks, and honour as a Marauder, that everything I said was true," Sirius blurted instantly. "Huh. I guess I've sworn things one too often…"

Remus lowered his wand. "I'm sorry. I had to be sure."

"I know," Sirius said softly. "I couldn't believe it either. You knew Peter as long as you knew me."

"Apparently none of us knew him at all," Remus commented dourly.

They were silent for a minute or two, until the Doctor, who had been inspecting the cells around them, came over. "So, prison break?"

"People will think there's a murderer on the loose," Rory pointed out. "That… would not make me comfortable."

"They'll get over it. Hey, you're magic, aren't you? Just make a big splash when we get out. Everyone thinks you're drowned. Bingo. Let's break out of a prison," the Doctor chirped.

"How exactly did this happen?" Sirius asked, as Remus let him out of the cell.

"Long story," Rory said. "By the way, there's another Muddle –"

"Muggle," the Doctor corrected.

"—Muggle in the TARDIS taking care of Harry. Amy. She looks a bit like Lily, so we'd best warn you."

"I thought James was fibbing about the TARDIS," Sirius murmured.

"Apparently the celery used to be true as well," Remus said.

Sirius snorted.


	2. Bad Wolf (And Dog, and River)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Previously: The Doctor and his Ponds kidnapped Harry. And Remus. And Sirius.

"Uncle Doctor sleep?" Harry asked worriedly, reaching out a small hand towards the limp body flopped over on the floor. The two-year-old was rather fond of the strange, bubbly man and, despite his age, was acutely aware that sometimes things went wrong – after all, why else did he have a dog-father and three uncles and an aunt instead of a mummy and a daddy?

"N – no," said dog-father replied shakily, holding the boy tightly. "Well, yes, in a way…"

"Shh, Pads, you'll make it worse… oh, Merlin," Remus whispered.

Mels/River/Crazy Woman turned around, looking around at them with an odd mixture of curiosity, concern, and conflict. "Who's River Song?"

Rory opened his mouth and shut it again. "Um."

"That's awkward," Sirius muttered.

"Once again, not helping," Remus moaned. "Why don't you have an off switch?"

"Well, uh," Rory began, then stopped again. This was unsurprising, considering he was going to have to explain how he was roaming around the universe with his son-in-law as the boss while inadvertently having raised his daughter as he himself grew up, thus shaping her personality before becoming friends with her at an… earlier date? Later date? And doing such a bad job of it she decided to steal buses. "Um."

"How do we explain this?" Remus asked. "It's… mixed up."

"Uh… oh!" Amy turned to the _Teselecta_ , which was still standing next to them, thankfully not doing much. "Show us River Song."

Slowly, an image of River materialized in the air in front of them. Mels/River/Crazy Woman blinked in surprise, her face going through a multitude of emotions before settling on pensive. "Is he worth it?"

Rory blinked. "Uh. Yes. Yes, definitely."

"Uh huh," Amy added. "Totally."

"Hell yeah!" Sirius piped up.

"She wasn't talking to you!" Remus hissed.

Sirius blew a short raspberry. Harry giggled, before making a horrified face and burying his eyes in Sirius's shoulder as River swept over and planted a kiss smack on the Doctor. "Eww!"

"What – is this something you guys deal in?" Rory asked, vaguely indicating the massive swirls of golden light and dust that had spontaneously begun to float around the room. "I mean – he's dead – oh, God!"

"Hello, sweetie," River murmured.

"I think that was your regeneration energy," Remus said, voice half an octave higher than normal, "Because no magic can bring back the dead and he's definitely alive again."

"Dead?" Harry squeaked.

"Oh, no, it's okay, Harry, the Doctor's alive," Remus assured him.

"Guys, River just fainted on top of the Doctor," Amy reported.

"Well, at least she isn't going to jump out of a window again," Sirius shrugged. "Alright, Doctor?"

"I think so," the Doctor replied.

"What just happened?" Rory asked.

"She gave up her regenerations to save me," the Doctor explained. "We're going to have to take her to hospital now. Can someone get her off me?"

"Locomotor River," Remus mumbled, waving his wand and lifting the unconscious woman off the Doctor, who sat up and straightened his jacket.

"Right," the Doctor sighed. "Let's get going then." Going to stand up, he flopped over sideways. "Augh! My left leg's still asleep!"

_Things can change in an instant. Life is strange. Nothing is forsaken._

* * *

"AUNTIE AMY! UNCLE SIRI!" Harry screamed, struggling as Remus threw the four-year-old bodily over his shoulder and helped Rory slam the door shut, locking it with a quick charm and throwing a table up against it for good measure. "PADDY! Auntie – Auntie Amy… Uncle – uh – uncle Siri…"

"Shh," Remus whispered, dropping the terrified, stricken boy down into his arms and stroking his scruffy hair. "Shh."

"What now?" Rory asked, turning hollow-eyed to Remus. "We're stuck here. We can't get out."

"I – don't know," the werewolf said softly. "It's not like any enchantment I've ever seen… I don't know how to reverse it… but…"

"We can't attack them," Rory finished dully. "We don't know what dolls are human, and if we can get Amy and Sirius back. I know."

"Pond…" Harry whimpered, burying his face in Remus's jacket and quietly sobbing. "D – da…"

"I mean," Rory said hopelessly, "We could hit them with, I dunno, a frying pan or something?"

"We'll have to make do with that," Remus replied morosely, gently patting Harry's back, "Because stunning and petrification don't seem to work."

"Why?" Harry asked suddenly, gazing watery-eyed at the two men around him, lip trembling and tears still pouring down his face. "Why?"

Rory sighed heavily and bent down. "Sometimes these things happen. We can only try our best and hope to pull through."

"I want Auntie and Da back," Harry sniffled.

"I know," Remus told him gently. "I do too."

Rory sighed and stood up. "Doctor, you had better pull through," he muttered.

_Bad things can happen to the best of people. It is our determination to pull through that makes us._

* * *

"Harry. Run," Sirius ordered. "Go with the Doctor."

Harry wasn't entirely sure what was going on. The six-year-old vaguely recognized the man's face but wasn't sure where from. Still, Uncle Siri usually gave decent instructions, so he nodded, ignoring the prickling in his eye-drive, and trotted up the stairs, followed by the Doctor. Stopping on the final step before his companions would disappear from view, he turned around. He saw Uncle Rory standing, gun drawn, sparks crackling around his face; Auntie Amy pushing the eye-drive back onto Madame Kovarian's face; Uncles Siri and Remus standing at either side of the prisoner, wands drawn and faces set despite the sparks falling to the floor from their own eye-drives. Neither Harry's nor Sirius's nor Remus's eye-drives ever worked properly, and they seemed to be acting up quite badly, though Harry had the good fortune to be progressing more slowly than his carers.

Harry wanted to linger, but Uncle Remus caught his eye and made a shooing motion with his hand, sending Harry skittering up the scares in pursuit of Uncle Doctor and Crazy Aunt River.

Fifteen minutes and one loudly gagging, giggling, and screaming child later, Crazy Aunt River dropped by.

"What happened?" Rory asked. "Where's the Doctor?"

"He's escaped," River proclaimed, proudly and fondly. "He's safe and he'll be back."

"Yay!" Harry shrieked, waving his arms like the overactive child he was.

"In the meantime, if we ever encounter the Silence again, we know they're terrified of magic," Amy said with satisfaction.

"Electricity and magic never mix. Now that I think of it, Hogwarts was never struck by lightning…" Remus mused.

"I'm sorry, I thought you said Hogwarts," Rory said.

"He did. The headmaster's name is Albus Dumbledore, remember? And the schoolhouses are Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin," Sirius said with a grin.

"Pity the Hufflepuffs," Amy commented.

"Me too," Remus admitted.

_Sometimes people make great sacrifices for the sake of others._

* * *

"Back off," the eight-year-old said boldly, wielding a large frying-pan as threateningly as he could.

"You. Are. Inferior," the trash-can shaped being in front of him declared, its voice horribly electric. "You. Will. Be. Exterminated."

"Upgraded," the humanoid cyborg corrected.

"The. Cyberman. Is. Inferior," Trash-Can the Dalek, as he was now dubbed in Harry's mind, objected.

"You won't do anything!" Harry exclaimed, glaring at the arguing aliens through narrowed green eyes and entirely ignoring Rory's whispered pleas for him to stop and Amy's valiant attempts to stand in front of him.

"You. Are. Inferior," Trash-Can insisted. "Exterminate."

"Upgrade!" The Cyberman snapped.

"God, you'd think they'd learn to work together," Amy groused.

"Are you really complaining about us being attacked badly?" Rory hissed back.

"Lesser humans must be upgraded," the Cyberman was telling Trash-Can.

"Lesser. Beings. Will. Be. Exterminated. The Daleks. Are. Superior!" Trash-Can exclaimed zealously.

"You can't do anything!" Harry yelled recklessly, raising his frying pan in the air as Rory muttered about how they had acquired a child who insisted on wielding a cooking instrument out of a nightmare dollhouse. "We're gonna stop you!"

"You. Cannot. Stop. Us," Trash-Can said blandly.

"Upgrades. Are. Compulsory," the Cyberman added.

"Nuh uh!" Harry snapped back. "We're gonna stop you, me 'n Pond 'n other Pond –"

"I feel loved," Rory grumbled.

"—'n Paddy 'n Moony and Uncle Doc-tor and Auntie Riv!"

"The. Doc. Tor?" the Dalek asked.

"YEAH!" Harry half-screamed it at the cyborgs. "Me and Aunt Amy and Uncle Rory and Uncle Sirius and Uncle Remus and the Doctor and Aunt River! We're gonna stop you and you can't do anything about it!"

"River?" the Dalek asked, almost cautiously.

Rory grabbed Harry's collar to prevent the boy from attempting what the Doctor fondly called an 'Ace Manoeuvre' on the Dalek. Much to his shock, however, the Dalek and Cyberman slowly stepped back, before moving on, both muttering about taking care of the Doctor and arguing over the fates of those around them.

"What just happened?" Amy asked.

"I – don't know," Rory mumbled.

"I didn't get to use my frying pan," Harry said mournfully.

_Fear of a name increases fear of the thing itself – it does not do to be fooled by words alone._

* * *

"You've always wanted kids," Amy muttered.

"I… Amy…" Rory sighed. "We…"

"This really isn't the time," Sirius grumbled. "Ouch!"

Remus shoved the hand that had just smacked Sirius into his pocket. "Insensitive wart."

"What about me?" Harry asked quietly.

"Amy," Rory said sadly, "It doesn't matter. We have two children."

Harry smiled.

"I figured you'd have a better chance with someone else," Amy murmured. "Worse than waiting 2000 years, I tell you…"

"Just take it," Rory urged gently.

"But – look," Harry said, pointing. Sitting on Amy's wrist was another bracelet identical to the one she'd lost.

In shock, the adults glanced around, before four sets of eyes narrowed at the Doctor. "Surprise?" he said.

"I don't know if you're a genius or crazed," Remus growled. "Immune to the Nanocloud."

"Bastard," Sirius added amiably. "Good on you, mate."

"Having a moment, here!" Amy protested.

"Ew," Harry commented.

_We hurt the most from those we love._

* * *

"Uncle Paddy! Uncle Moony!" Harry yelled, nearly falling down the stairs after tripping over his fluffy slippers. "I got it! I got it I got it I got it!"

"Slow down, Cub," Remus said gently, smiling as Harry tripped into the kitchen. "You're still not used to stairs, remember?"

"Yeah," Harry sighed. "I remember."

"You got your letter? Great job, Pup," Sirius said, coming over with eggs and bacon. "I was almost worried you wouldn't get one…"

Harry blew a loud raspberry at his godfather/uncle/crazy guardian. "Well I did!"

"We'll have to be careful from now on," Remus said. "The Doctor erased all record of your conviction, Pads, but there's no accounting for what You-Know-Who might do."

"Which one?" Sirius asked, stuffing a piece of toast in his mouth and turning around to take the coffee off the heat.

"Either," Remus said seriously. "We can expect Harry to be splattered across the front page the moment we step into the alley to get his things."

"Diagon Alley!" Harry gasped. "When do we get to go? Can we go today? Can we take the Ponds? Please? Please?"

"Slow down, Pup," Sirius chuckled. "What does Mister Moony think?"

Remus shrugged. "Mister Moony thinks it's a fine idea."

"Mister Padfoot thinks certain pure-bloods are going to have fits," Sirius snickered.

"Let them," Harry said with a little too much dignity.

Remus grinned. "I think you'll have a lot of fun this year."

"Less running for your life, too," Sirius commented. "You'll take the cloak, yeah? And see if you can find the map… Prongs would roll over in his grave if you didn't find any secret passages."

"I will," Harry promised with a grin, before his face suddenly fell into something more pensive. "What… if I'm in Slytherin?"

"Disownment," Sirius said dramatically.

"Sirius! He's being – ugh," Remus grumbled, before he turned to the eleven-year-old currently fretting over his sausages. "Harry, don't worry. You're a good person. The hat will put you in the right place. Sure, we'd prefer you to follow us, but we won't worry if you don't."

"But what if I am in Slytherin?" Harry repeated, eyes wide and worried.

"Well, Riv's going to be up thirty pounds, six galleons and a trip to Midnight," Sirius told him. Remus snorted.

"So…" Harry blinked up at his Godfather, who sighed and pulled the scruffy boy into a hug.

"Don't worry. You'll do us proud."

"I will," Harry murmured. "Dad and Mum and you and Moony and the Ponds and Aunt Riv and Uncle Doctor. I promise, Da."

"We know," Sirius replied gently. "Now," he added, more jovially, "You'd better finish that breakfast so we can go swing by wizard-town, okay?"

"We're not taking the bike," Remus warned.

Sirius pouted. "You spoil our fun."

"How are we meant to fit five people on a bike?" Remus asked incredulously.

"Believe me," Sirius said solemnly, "I've seen it done."

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you suppose the message at the end should have been 'Five people can definitely fit on one motorbike?'


	3. The Doctor's Nephew

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Easily summarized as:  
> No Harry  
> No Walburga  
> Harry, No  
> Just... No  
> No Doctor, No  
> No Parents  
> Sirus, No

"Keep your hat on, Pup," Sirius reminded Harry as they jumped out of the car.

"Okay, Da," Harry replied, adjusting the hat slightly so it sat crookedly across his forehead. Nobody was entirely sure when Harry had decided Sirius needed a whole three names, but nobody was complaining, Sirius least of all.

"Remember the plan?" Remus asked the Ponds, fidgeting slightly with his robes. Ten years was a long time to get used to wearing muggle clothing and not the wizarding sort.

"Yeah," Amy chirped, bouncing slightly. "I'm Lily's cousin, and we were really close, much closer than her and Petunia, and we agreed to raise Harry together after Petunia couldn't manage two children."

It wasn't even like Petunia could protest. Amy and Sirius had paid her a quiet visit a few weeks ago and her response had boiled down to, "If it keeps you away, go for it."

"You're sure they'll be alright with it?" Rory asked anxiously.

"Probably not," Sirius said cheerfully, "But the way the Doctor did things only knocked out the bureaucracy. People probably still think I'm a crazed murderer who's holding you all hostage."

"Great," Rory grumbled.

His wife grabbed his hand. "Come on. Now we can say we've been to magic land as well as alien land!"

"You didn't manage to contact the Doctor?" Remus asked, as Rory locked the car and Sirius started them off towards the Leaky Cauldron.

"Knowing him, he'll teleport into the middle of the Alley three hours late," Amy said cheerfully as Sirius shrugged.

"I'd like to see that," Harry giggled. "Can wizards use a TARDIS?"

"Nah, just portkeys, and they don't travel in time, just space," Remus reminded them.

"Hey, is that it?" Rory asked suddenly, pointing forwards.

"You shouldn't – it is." Sirius blinked. "You know, muggles usually can't see the Leaky."

"Could be the time-travel," Amy suggested. "The Doctor always said it made you see things differently."

"No kidding," Remus mumbled. "Harry still insists on counting in base 17. Who counts in base 17?"

"Oxet 174 does!" Harry exclaimed.

"You're not from Oxet 174," the werewolf groaned. "Your teachers will kill you!"

"This looks like a pub," Amy interrupted, sensing a familiar argument coming up.

"The Leaky is a pub," Sirius replied.

Rory peeped in. "A really grimy pub."

"You should see the Hog's Head," Sirius said cheerfully. "I'm sure there's still stains there from Kingsley Shacklebolt's first – and last – time trying redcurrant rum."

"Let's go already!" Harry grumbled.

"Alright, alright! Hat?" Sirius asked, and Harry nodded, shoving it down further on his head. It was one of the Doctor's spare ones and far too big, so it covered the scar nicely. Sirius moved on. "Story?" the Ponds nodded. "Fly done up?"

Remus poked him, hard. "Get on with it, mutt."

Sirius huffed. "Fine." He stepped forward to the door and grabbed the handle. "Into the Wizarding World."

* * *

The hat worked. Tom the barman shied away from Sirius, who apparently couldn't resist attempting to scare everyone, but nobody jumped on Harry, attempted to kidnap him, or promised him their firstborn child. Mission accomplished, the Marauders thought. Remus let them into the alley and the adults stood back a few feet as Harry went wide-eyed at everything he saw. Well, not everything. Harry apparently wasn't too fond of the slightly 'wibbly-wobbly' paving.

"Gringotts first," Sirius told him. "We've got no money, and you need money to buy stuff."

"The bank run by goblins!" Harry cheered, dragging the adults down the alley. "Cool!"

"Why goblins, though?" Rory asked, as his arm was nearly pulled out of his socket.

"They kept rebelling, so we gave them a passive way to attack us and made them bankers," Remus said flatly. "Personally, I don't see why it was so hard to give them the right to self-govern that people thought it was a good idea to hand over the reins to the economy instead."

"The people who did all that were like my mother," Sirius pointed out. "She's crazy. Wonder if she's still alive?"

No, Walburga Black was not alive, Griphook told them with an evil grin. Sirius beamed like an overloaded lightbulb.

"Should I be worried?" Rory asked, backing away. "Only people usually don't smile when their relatives die. I mean, even River has some morals and she's definitively psychotic – at least some of the time."

Sirius was busy sharing mutual amusement over Walburga's death with the goblin. Remus shook his head. "Sirius's entire family were pretty evil, remember? Kicking puppies and all that – probably tried to off a few goblins, that would explain a lot about the goblin attitude… Plus, the woman probably murdered her husband a year or two after Sirius bolted. She was _nasty_."

"Bitch!" Harry chirped, much to Rory and Remus's mutual consternation.

"So," Sirius said, after he and Griphook were done with the cackling, "Can we go down to my vault and Harry's and – Moony, you want to go down to your vault?"

"I'm basically a squib now," Remus shrugged. "Besides," he added, flushing slightly, "It's pretty near empty. I'll just exchange muggle stuff up here."

"Okay. Hey, did dear old ma leave a will?" he added.

Griphook shrugged. "No change to the Black vaults for seven years. Terrible investment strategy."

Sirius grinned. "Great! Take that, blonde _prick_ , and curly _lunatic_ –"

"He always had a thing against Narcissa's husband," Remus commented idly. "Harry, you're not to call anyone a prick."

"Follow me," Griphook said, grabbing a set of keys from under the desk. The humans obeyed, finding themselves at a set of tracks with carts sitting on them. "In!" the goblin said, jumping in the front with a lantern.

"Wait, we sit in these?" Amy asked.

Griphook grinned the patented goblin grin #24 – Scaring Humans When Taking Them On Cart Rides.

"Don't worry," Sirius beamed, jumping in and helping Harry. "If anyone dies, they cover it up even better than purebloods do."

"Do these have seatbelts?" Rory asked.

Griphook frowned. "What are seatbelts?"

* * *

"You know what, Pads? I missed that." Remus said, straightening his robes.

"That was worse than the time the Doctor tried to fly the TARDIS one-handed," Rory mumbled, stumbling out.

"I think it was fun," Harry commented, pushing his hair out of his eyes.

"You thought it was fun when fifty-odd Slitheen dissolved in a room and made it explode," Amy pointed out. "The Doctor was guilty for ages and you thought it was brilliant 'cos you got to fly."

"I was seven!" Harry protested.

"Harry Potter's vault," Griphook interrupted, wondering whether to turn up the speed on the carts just to see what the humans did. As the humans shut up and gathered around, he stuck the key in the lock and turned it, causing the vault door to swing open.

Harry took a look inside and blinked in surprise.

"WOW! Is that all mine?" he asked, beaming and skipping inside when the adults nodded.

In the centre was a small mound of gold Galleons, slightly dusty but still enticingly shiny. To the side were piles of silver and bronze Sickles and Knuts. Some were in piles, others were scattered around in mixed up piles of small change. At the back, in the left corner, there was a mixed up stack of coins, documents, and, oddly enough, wrapped bubble gum.

"I'd forgotten Lily liked stockpiling gum," Remus remarked quietly. "Daftest thing she did."

"Other than marrying Prongs?" Sirius asked, smiling slightly.

"Oh yes, that was obviously a bad choice. We were all awful choices," Remus chuckled.

Harry picked one up, unwrapped it, and put it in his mouth. "Still good."

Amy made an 'ew' face.

"Uh, excuse me?" Rory asked. "But is that actual gold?"

"We're a little archaic," Sirius snorted. "It's not very pure. But yes, it's gold."

"Kid's rich," Rory said weakly.

"Rich on hair potion," Remus explained. "Fleamont, his grandfather, invented something that tames everything except the own family. Made a mint, and yet they could never stop the Potters from looking like they'd hopped off a broom. Or came out of a storm."

"Or been in a broom cupboard," Sirius added, wiggling his eyebrows.

"Gross!" Harry called out from the back of the vault, examining the gum with far too much interest for someone with access to a pile of gold big as they were.

"Harry," Amy sighed, "Stop eating the decade-old gum and grab some money, or we'll never get out."

"Not too much," Sirius added, "Just for a few things. You should save up for when you're older. We'll cover everything else."

"Can I bring the gum?" Harry asked.

Rory groaned something about 'germs' and 'unhygienic' and 'irresponsible' and 'death trap rollercoasters' as he leaned on his wife.

"Leave the gum," Remus sighed. "We'll buy you some fresh stuff later."

"Aww," Harry moaned.

* * *

"The HELL?!" Rory exclaimed, as Amy said something much ruder but entirely overshadowed.

"Old money," Sirius said distastefully. "Still, lots of fun rubbing it in the Dark families' faces. Most light families never get out of the middle class."

"Is that a sword?" Amy asked, pointing.

"Don't touch it," Sirius said casually, "Or it'll try to behead you."

Harry shuddered.

"Never mind the sword," Rory said, "Is that a toilet over there?"

"Yep," Remus said.

"Why would you keep a toilet in your vault?" Amy raised her eyebrows.

Sirius groaned. "Don't ask. It's a long story and I don't want to talk about it."

"Oh, well, now I'm curious," Remus said. "You never mentioned it to us."

"For good reason," Sirius muttered.

* * *

Meanwhile, in an exceedingly secure prison, a curvy, curly-haired, gun-toting, lipstick-wearing woman made escape #164 into a waiting TARDIS. "Hello, sweetie."

"River!" the Doctor beamed, ducking as she tried to pluck the fez off his head. "You got out alright?"

"Left a few guards lying around," River replied nonchalantly. "I'll clean them up when I get back. Where now?"

"Back to Britain," the Doctor grinned, grabbing onto the controls. "We've got an eleven-year old to meet."

"Ooh!" River smiled. "Is he starting already?"

"Already," the Doctor agreed. "Let's go, then." He flipped the switch. "To Diagon!"

The last words left echoing around time were River's exclamation of "You forgot the stabilizers again!'

* * *

"Robes!" Sirius declared, ushering the party towards Madam Malkin's.

"Why do you wear robes, exactly?" Amy asked.

"No clue. Even the purebloods don't wear them all the time, though. I remember growing up in a Merlin-be-damned waistcoat and scarf of all things. I'm pretty sure we wear them specifically when we go out into the rest of the world just to confused the muggles…"

"It's a mark of your magical ability," Remus sighed as he pushed open the door, "But the customs around when you can and can't wear muggle wear are ridiculous. Most poorer families survive on robes and dresses, upper-class dresses like a bunch of Late Victorian Era nobles sometimes, middle-class doesn't realise kilts don't go with ponchos…"

"Ugh," Harry shuddered. "That's… nasty."

"Hogwarts, dear?" Madam Malkin asked, bustling over. "Come over here. We've got another young man being fitted right now."

"Uh, right," Harry said, as Rory gently pushed him forward. "Okay."

Madam Malkin had him stand up on a stool as she trotted around gathering up material and pins and other miscellaneous items. Next to him, her assistant was already working away at another child, a chubby blonde-haired boy who blinked in surprise and then slouched in on himself in shyness at the sudden increase in people and activity.

"Hi," Harry chirped. "First year?"

"Yeah," the boy replied quietly. "You?"

"Well, I'd make a very short seventh-year, wouldn't I?"

The blonde smiled slightly. "So… they all yours?" He squinted slightly at the four adults where were talking and examining the shop's wares. "That's a lot of relatives. Is that your mum?"

"Oh, Aunt Amelia? No, she was my mum's cousin."

The boy frowned slightly. "So…"

Harry didn't say anything for a moment, and the boy hastened to correct himself. "I mean! You don't have to say anything if you don't want to!"

"No, it's fine," Harry sighed. "My parents died near the end of the war, when I was one. That's how I ended up being cared for by my aunts and uncles."

"Oh. I've got my gran, myself," the boy murmured. "She's scary. She has this massive hat with a vulture on top of it. Everyone in my family thought I was going to be a squib, you know." He was a little more animated now as he recalled his story. "But one day Uncle Algie dropped me out of a window and I bounced. They still thought I might not be magic enough to go to Hogwarts, though. They were so happy when I got my letter. Uncle Algie says he's going to buy me a present." He paused. "I hope it's not a hat like Gran's. I know he has one of his own and it's creepy."

Harry laughed, though he noticed the boy skimmed over the mention of his parents. "I don't think he will. Maybe a pet? Uncle Rory and Uncle Remus – they're my sensible uncles – they reckon I'm old enough to care for another living being now."

"I'd like a pet," the boy agreed. "An owl would be nice, though I'd be happy with anything, really. Sensible uncles – so the other two are your less sensible ones?"

"Actually, Auntie Amy's pretty okay. It's Uncle Doctor, Uncle Sirius, and Crazy Aunt River you've got to watch out for, I swear they've got firewhiskey instead of blood…"

"I heard that, Prongslet! And I resent it!" Sirius called out from near a rack of clothes. "Don't make me buy you a bird-hat like Augusta's! I will make you wear it!"

"Why are you like this?" Remus groaned quietly.

The boy blinked. "Sirius? Like the mass-murderer?"

Harry shrugged. "That's what the papers say."

"But –"

"Relax, he's innocent. He says, anyway. Whatever. I've been in worse danger before."

"How did you end up being cared for by _Sirius Black_?"

"He's my godfather," Harry said amiably. "Kind of gives him first picks. Well, it's more complicated than that, but…"

The boy stared at him. "You're Harry Potter!"

"Great job, pup! Now we have to bribe him to stay away from the papers!" Sirius joked.

Amy raised an eyebrow at him, pausing in her interested examination of women's robes. "Everyone thinks you're a mass-murderer. How are you going to bribe them?"

"Believe me, worse things happen at war," Remus sighed. "Sirius, shut up before I confound Rory into stitching your mouth shut."

"Like I said, firewhiskey," Harry commented. "So, you know my name, what's yours?"

"Neville Longbottom," Neville said, apparently wondering if anyone in the shop was sane.

"There you go," Madam Malkin said at that moment, helping her assistant pull the robes over Neville's head. "All done."

"Bye, Neville," Harry chirped. "See you on the train!"

"O-okay," Neville said. "Bye, Harry."

The family watched as Neville paid for his school things and wandered out the door, presumably in search of his grandmother.

"Algernon's going to have a heart attack," Remus finally commented.

"Sounds like it's been a long time coming," Amy said.

"Please don't murder us all," Madam Malkin said politely, as she presented Harry his finished robes.

"Why do people keep saying that?" Sirius asked.

Rory smacked his forehead as Harry contracted a rather prolonged giggling fit.

* * *

Garrick Ollivander blinked as a police box materialized directly outside his shop. It wasn't often that the man was surprised, but it made a nice change.

"A ha!" A man in suspenders and a bow-tie stepped out. "Diagon Alley! See, I told you!"

A curly-haired woman stepped out next, hands on her hips slightly. "Sweetie, you landed us in a swamp in Wales. And then Camelot. And then the swamp again."

"Wasn't my fault," he replied indignantly. "Sexy here was messing about."

"Should I be jealous?" the woman asked.

The man snorted. "No! For the last time, I do not treat the TARDIS like a woman! Come on, River."

He set off down the alley, but only made it two steps before he was grabbed by the tie as he walked past a redheaded woman going in the opposite direction, along with a moderately-sized group

"Wand shop is this way."

The curly haired woman sighed. "Hey, Mum."

"Did he get it here alright?"

"Swamp. Wales. Twice."

"Merlin-damn-it," a scarred brunet sighed, digging in his pocket before handing the only child – a scruffy, raven-haired thing – a coloured slip of something.

"I told you teaching him to bet was a mistake," another brunet grumbled.

"I told you I blame Sirius," the first sniffed.

"Never mind that," the final person said, pushing open the door to his shop. "Wands!"

Ollivander let his gaze slip across the people. Now he recognized three of them. Dark, slightly wavy hair, grey eyes, aristocratic features, careless countenance – Sirius Black. Light brown hair, green eyes, scarring, a slight slouch – Remus Lupin. Messy black hair, bright green eyes, once-fair skin turned gold and slightly freckly by the sun, a cheeky grin – an amalgamation of Lily and James Potter if ever he saw one.

"Ah, Mister Potter. Here for a wand?"

"Yes, sir," Harry replied, not even looking surprised.

"Ah. Of course, let me just get you… which is your wand hand?"

"Right, mostly."

"I see." Ollivander set his magical tape measure to work as he started pulling boxes out of the walls. "Now, Mr Black, Mr Lupin… wands still serving, are they?"

"Yes, Mr Ollivander."

"Uh huh."

"Good, good," Ollivander said vaguely. "The wand chooses the wizard you know, and some wands grow weary of their companion with age…"

"That explains a lot," Rory commented, "Since we're not sure Sirius grew up."

Amy snorted.

"Well, yes… give this one a wave, blackthorn and dragon heartstring, 11 ½ inches."

Harry gave the wand a tentative wave, but Ollivander had grabbed it before he could do any more.

"No, no… try this, elm and unicorn hair, 10 ¼ inches. Nice and stiff, good for transfiguration…"

Harry was halfway through a flick when Ollivander grabbed it back. "No, no. Well, I thought… perhaps your father… no… mahogany and unicorn hair, 12 ¾ inches, rather pliable…"

Harry wiggled it a little and a vase exploded.

"No, definitely not."

"Shame," River murmured.

"Let's see now… I wonder…" Ollivander reached up and grabbed a box from a shelf just above his head. "Try this one. Holly and phoenix feather, I believe… yes."

Harry frowned and gave it a wave, and the wand sputtered out sparks. Sirius cheered, but Ollivander looked pensive.

"Close, but not quite. Not quite…" He pottered around to the far end of the shop and came back with a final box. "I hope this one likes you, lad. It's the last one that might…"

Harry gingerly took the wand out of the box, looking nervously at it.

"Beech and phoenix feather, 10 ½ inches," Ollivander declared.

Harry nervously poked the wand at the air. There was a soft, inscrutable noise, and a shower of gold and bronze sparks fell from the tip.

"Ah! Perfect!" Ollivander nodded to himself. "Now this is interesting… curious, really…"

"Why's that?" The Doctor spoke up. He had been fidgeting for the last few minutes, and was apparently now just an interested as the old wandmaker.

"As they say, the wand chooses the wizard," Ollivander mused. "The wand that young Harry almost bonded to – almost, but not quite – why, its owner gave him his scar."

"I see," the Doctor frowned, clearly deep in thought.

"So I tried a similar core with a different wood," Ollivander explained. "The phoenix that gave me this feather vanished years ago. A sister to the one who gave me the cores to that wand –" he indicated the holly wand, "—and the wand of the Dark Lord."

Harry blinked, wondering whether to feel concerned or excited. He settled on a mixture of both. It was a skill born of spending a lot of time running for your life.

"Well," Sirius beamed, clapping Harry's shoulder, "That's that then. How much?"

"Seven galleons."

As Sirius rummaged around, River cleared her throat quietly.

"Dunno if this is important, but there's a white-haired guy spying on us."

Rory turned around. "Oh yeah, there is. Look at that, Amy."

"You think he's interested in Harry, or he's just waiting?"

Sirius who had finally found his money, paid and spun around, an evil grin breaking out on his face.

"Oh sweet Merlin," Remus groaned. "Harry, stay with River and the Doctor. Amy, Rory, remember the plan."

Sirius strode out the door. "LUCY! HOW'S MY SECOND-FAVOURITE COUSIN-IN-LAW?!"

Lucius did not look best pleased, although he might have been if he realised that, all the way in the apothecary down the alley, poor Professor McGonagall had just had a small heart attack. "Black. You show your face again after all these years."

"OF COURSE I AM!" Sirius practically screamed the words to the entire alley. "I NEED TO GRACE MY DEAR FAMILY WITH MY WONDERFUL FACE AGAIN!"

"Popcorn?" River asked.

"There's an ice-cream place not far along," Amy suggested.

"Ah, yes, Fortescue's…" Remus sighed. "Ice-cream, Harry?"

"Uh huh," Harry said. "But can we come back and watch?"

"It's not like we can get out earshot," Rory pointed out.

They walked off down the street, Harry trotting back over with his strawberry sundae just in time to hear Sirius asking, "SO, HAS CISSY MADE UP WITH ANDY YET? I HEAR NYMMIE'S IN PROVISIONAL AUROR TRAINING, YOU MUST BE SO PROUD!"

"Is this normal?" the Doctor asked curiously, grimacing at Rory's pear-flavoured cone.

Remus just buried himself in his chocolate sundae, which everyone took to be a resounding 'yes'.

"LUCY, YOU HAVE TO COME OVER WITH DRACO ONE DAY! SINCE YOU'VE BEEN DECLARED INNOCENT, I'M SURE HARRY WILL LOVE YOU ALL! NOT BELLA, THOUGH. DEFINITELY NOT BELLA. KEEP HER AWAY. I KNOW SHE'S IN AZKABAN BUT KEEP HER AWAY. HER HAIR'S BETTER THAN MINE AND I WILL NOT STAND FOR IT."

"… what in the name of Merlin, Black?!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Out of sync with FF.net. Oops.


	4. The Power of Nine and Three-Quarters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Harry enters Hogwarts and gives Percy a heart attack (bless his heart, make it better), Ron a lot to think about, and Malfoy crinkled robes.

“Bye, guys,” Harry called out, waving.

“Don’t forget, you’ve got to come visit us sometimes!” Remus added.

“We’ve always got firewhiskey ready!” Sirius beamed, and Harry snorted.

“This is always a bit odd,” Amy mused, smiling and waving back at the wizards. “You spend time with them and then you remember they’re old enough to be your _dad_.”

“Believe me, I get it all the time. My husband’s a millennium out of my age range and I set up my own parents.” River shrugged, closing the door of the TARDIS. “You’ll get used to it.”

“Maybe you will,” Rory sighed, “But Amy and I are fully human. You’re 50% time machine.”

“You flatter me, Daddy dear,” River beamed.

“Back home?” the Doctor asked, and to a series of nods, he skidded over to the control panel, flipping levers and pulling buttons. “Alright then! Geronimo!”

* * *

Harry, Sirius and Remus watched the police box dematerialize from their backyard, Harry waving eagerly until it was completely gone. When his hand finally fell to his side, Sirius turned to the others.

“Well, first things first, now they’re gone, we can switch the sugar and salt cellars in their house around.”

“Padfoot,” Remus sighed, “Everyone on the street thinks they’re travellers, and they’re right, in a way. Don’t you think they’ll get a bit puzzled if we wander on into their house?”

“We could be house-sitting,” Harry pointed out. “Let’s do it.”

* * *

Rory stirred the tea, raised the cup to his lips, took a sip, and sprayed tea all over his wife.

“Rory!” Amy cried, as Brain watched on in amusement. “What are you doing?”

Rory coughed once, then spat out the remaining tea back into his cup. “Salt,” he groaned. “Dammit, Sirius!”

“What are you talking about?” Brian asked. “You’ve always had the salt and sugar in the wrong places.”

“From your perspective,” Rory sighed. “We’ve got to take you time travelling one day. Take you to the kid rather than the kid to you.”

“The Doctor reckons it permanently alters the way you see things,” Amy added, touching a finger to the granular substance in the sugar dish and licking it. “Ugh, it is salt.”

“So,” Brian asked, “How is my grandson?”

“Isn’t he your great nephew?” Amy asked.

“As far as I’m concerned, he’s my grandson. I already had a granddaughter, now I have a set,” Brian informed them. “So, how is he?”

“Well enough to switch the salt and sugar around in the house,” Rory grumbled. “I should have known Sirius was up to something when he suggested stocking full sacks of the stuff.”

* * *

“So, that’s done,” Sirius beamed, brushing sugar off his hands and onto the floor. “Excited for Hogwarts, Harry?”

“Yeah!” Harry exclaimed. “I can’t wait. It’s so big, there’re so many people…”

“You’ll have to watch out for a few people,” Remus warned. “You remember them?”

“Yeah,” Harry replied, nodding furiously. “The Headmaster, because he might try to re-home me, the Potions Teacher, because he didn’t like any of you except mum, and the blonde guy you were screaming at down the alley, because he’s a governor and also a Death Eater.”

“Good.” Sirius nodded back as they set off back to their own home. “Now, you’re leaving tomorrow morning, but there’s a few things we’re going to have to clear up first…”

“What?” Harry asked. “I thought we got everything when we went down to Diagon Alley?”

“Not quite,” Remus said dryly. “Padfoot got a little sidetracked, didn’t he?”

“Hey!” Sirius clutched his heart in mock-offense. “I hadn’t seen Lucy in YEARS!”

“You hate him,” Remus said flatly.

“All the better to annoy him,” Sirius declared. “I wonder what the kid’s like? Little git, no doubt…”

“Sirius,” Remus sighed, “At least wait until second year before you start plugging biases into Harry’s head.”

“Hell no!” Sirius shook his head firmly. “There is no way Harry’s making friend with any Malfoy spawn.”

“It’d annoy Lucius, wouldn’t it?” Remus asked. “So leave it to chance. It probably won’t happen anyway.”

“If you say so, Moony,” Sirius said suspiciously. “But if those ponces try anything with my godson, we’re sending them to Midnight.”

“Whatever you say, Pads,” Remus sighed.

“I’m hungry,” Harry complained.

* * *

Harry’s two uncle/father figures made him wait until they’d sorted something out with the goblins (“You’re not sicking candy up into the bank, Cub,”) and made it back to the Leaky before they could eat. Harry was unamused, glaring at both of them from beneath his hat while she stuffed shepherd’s pie into his mouth.

“Don’t pout,” Sirius grumbled. “If I’m not allowed to eat jellybeans for lunch, you’re not.”

“It’s not filling,” Remus sighed. “This is a growing child, Sirius. And you’re too old to be eating so much sugar.”

“OLD?” Sirius yelped. “I’m in the prime of my life, thank you very much!”

“Of course you are,” Remus said, patting Sirius’s hand consolingly.

“Ew,” Harry grumbled. “Don’t get mushy.”

“We will if you don’t start on your vegetables,” Remus threatened.

“Kid,” Sirius said, “Don’t start on your vegetables.”

Harry defiantly shoved a piece of broccoli into his mouth, before realising he’d been worked into a corner and pouting, a sight made interesting by the fact his mouth was full of food.

“Anything to drink?” Tom the barman asked, coming by with a stack of freshly-dried cups. “Or will the food be alright?”

“Just food’s fine,” Sirius assured him, for the barman still looked a little nervy. “Kid’s enjoying it.”

“I don’t like broccoli,” Harry whined, though he ate another piece just the same.

“He yours?” Tom asked, setting down the cups.

“Basically,” Sirius said.

“Legally,” Harry added.

“Yes, he’s ours,” Remus sighed. “We have to share him with his other relations, though.”

“Oh? Those the people who came with you last time? Rowdy bunch. Y’ left with more than you came in with, y’know.”

“Uncle Doctor and Crazy Aunt River are a bit like that,” Harry commented.

Tom raised his eyebrows at the two grown-ups, both of whom shrugged. “So,” he asked, “Hogwarts age, I guess?”

“Yes, sir,” Harry said, halfway through stuffing an oversized forkful into his mouth. “That’s why everyone came, to see me off.”

“And there’s no way Aunt Amy and Uncle Rory would let him go without seeing what all this wizarding stuff was all about.”

“Muggles?” Tom frowned slightly. “Bit dangerous, innit? Statue of Secrecy and all that?”

“I’m the kid’s godfather, Amy and River are his mother’s cousins. A bit far, but his father was an only child and his mother’s sister is as close to the witch trials as you get in this day and age,” Sirius explained. “They already knew, anyway. We share custody.”

“Oh, I see,” Tom nodded. “Yes, a lot of children were orphaned in the war. Crying shame. What’s your name, kid?”

Harry looked do Sirius and then Remus for approval. When they both nodded, he shot the barman a cheeky grin (thankfully absent of food) and pushed his hat up a little. “Harry Potter, sir. Nice t’ meet you.”

Tom’s eyes widened amusingly, and he might have yelled something for the whole store to see had Sirius not made a ‘shh’ gesture. “We’re trying to keep the papers away from him as long as we can,” he whispered. “You’ve seen the books, haven’t you? It’s all going to blow up when he goes to Hogwarts, so it doesn’t matter so much now, but don’t have the whole bar mob him, or Moony will flay you alive.”

Tom blinked in confusion. Remus was wearing a cardigan, for one thing.

“I know he looks innocent, and he did name our pot plants,” Harry piped up, “But he’s a mama bear.”

“I’m not,” Remus grumbled. “I’m just protective of the child of my _best friends._ ”

“Like Harry said, he’s the mum,” Sirius said cheerfully.

“I’m going to kill you,” Remus growled.

“If you killed me, how would you make Harry horribly uncomfortable?” Sirius asked smugly. “You can’t kiss the cat at inopportune times, can you? You need _Padfoot._ ”

“I’d persuade River to share the Doctor.”

“EWW!” Harry cried. “NO!”

“See? Already works.”

Tom decided the Potter family was insane.

* * *

“Send Hedwig,” Remus instructed Harry. “Even if we’re off doing something, we should be able to answer your letters.”

“It’s a shame technology doesn’t work at Hogwarts,” Harry sighed. “I could call you.”

“I’m sure the Doctor will end up figuring something out for you,” Sirius commented. “He always does.”

“In any case,” Remus said, “Write to us. We’re going to miss having you around, Prongslet.”

“Yes, Uncle Moony,” Harry huffed. “I know.”

“C’mon, don’t smother him too much,” Sirius grinned. “You’re going to Hogwarts, Harry! Got everything? Trunk? Owl? Spare pants?”

“Yes, yes, what?”

“Always bring spare pants,” Sirius told him. “They’re a great asset. You might run out of pants, for example, or you might need to use them for a quick getaway – remember that time when you were nine?”

“I’ve got plenty of pants, Da,” Harry grumbled. “Honestly, you’re embarrassing.”

“Sorry, Pup. Should I go hug Lucy to make it up to you?”

Harry considered the man standing on the opposite end of the platform. “Nah. Best do so when I come home. Might be funnier.”

“Right you are,” Sirius grinned cheerfully, clapping Harry on the shoulder. “Off you go, then!”

“We’ll see you at Christmastime,” Remus smiled, pulling Harry into a hug. “Try not to spend your entire life in detention, right?”

“But – he has a record to beat!” Sirius exclaimed.

Remus shot him a half amused, half stern look. “Don’t spend your life in detention. Don’t fall down a secret passageway and break your neck. Come to think of it, watch out for the stairs… Don’t let the Professors see what’s in your trunk, okay?”

“Got it,” Harry said. “Christmastime, then. Bye!” He grabbed his trunk and started tottering off towards the train door.

“Bye, Pup! We love you!” Sirius called after him.

Harry flushed. “Da!”

Sirius turned gleefully to Remus. “What say I bring a megaphone when he’s a teenager?”

Remus just shook his head in exasperation. “I’m going to end up helping you charm it, aren’t I?”

“Of course, Moony!”

* * *

“Can I sit here? Everywhere else is full. Or – well. Occupied, at least.”

Harry glanced up. “Sure.”

The freckly redhead shot him a swift grin and sat down opposite him, shoving his battered trunk under his seat in lieu of trying to stuff it into the overhead racks. “Thanks.”

“Any time,” Harry replied breezily, turning the page in his notebook and noting down some numbers off the newspaper.

“What’re you doing?” the redhead asked after a moment, eyeing Harry’s book with some trepidation. “Working already? Or are you not a first year? Only – you’re the right size, aren’t you?”

“Oh, I’m a first year,” Harry said absently, jotting down a few numbers and circling the final one. “This is Quidditch results. Moony and Rory said I had to learn math, so they make me run the numbers on the sports results. It’s not too bad, actually. Bit finicky, but pretty good if you ever want to make any bets.”

“Oh.” The redhead sounded a little relieved, absently rubbing a patch on dirt on his long nose. “Quidditch, then? What’s your team?”

“Puddlemere United,” Harry replied. “You?”

“Cannons,” the redhead cheered.

Harry glanced down at his book. The Cannons were 9th in the league – not exactly terrible, but firmly in the bottom half. Before he could say anything, though, the door to the compartment slipped open a crack and two more redheads, an identical pair, stuck their heads in.

“Hey, Ronniekins.”

“Just wanted to tell you –”

“—we’re going down the –”

“—other end of the train. Lee’s got –”

“—a giant tarantula down there.”

‘Ronniekins’ shuddered. “Right.”

The twins appeared to be about to retreat when the one whose head was on the top caught sight of Harry. “Well, hello there, ickle firstie.”

“Sitting with Ron here, are you?”

“Watch out, he snores.”

“Hey!” Ron’s ears turned pink, Harry noted with slight amusement.

“Just the truth, Ronniekins,” Twin On Top declared.

“What’s your name, anyway?” the other asked, looking back at Harry.

“Harry Potter,” Harry told them.

Ron blinked. “You’re _Harry Potter?_ ”

“Well,” Harry said airily, “We considered changing it, you know, to Harry Potter-Black-Lupin-Pond-Williams-Song-Smith, but it was too long, and Uncle Siri said if we gave McGonagall a heart attack there’d be nobody to defend us from Snape. So we kept it short.”

“True, that,” Twin On Top mused.

“Anyway, we are George –”

“—and Fred –”

“—Weasley, at your service,” they said, finishing together. “And this is our brother Ron.”

For lack of anything better to say, Harry replied with a simple, “Hi.”

“Anyway, we’ve got a tarantula to find,” Fred declared.

“Right you are, my dear man. We’ll see you at Hogwarts – hopefully in Gryffindor,” George grinned. “Toodle-pip!”

The compartment door closed with a sharp click and two sets of footsteps echoed out of hearing range down the train.

“Are you really Harry Potter?” Ron asked, in a rush.

“Sure,” Harry shrugged. “Someone’s got to be.”

Ron squinted at him for a moment. “I kind of expected you to be a bit bigger.”

Harry snorted. “And that, my dear Ron, is why I spent 10 years hiding from the press. Honestly, I was one. I could have turned out really _ugly._ But no, let’s write speculative stories on how he’s doing. All I know is I look like my dad with my mum’s eyes – and hands, apparently, though that’s a little questionable…”

“Oh,” Ron said, and there was an awkward silence that eventually had to be broken by a knock on the compartment door.

“Anything from the trolley, dears?” It was an old woman pushing a cart covered in food. Harry jumped up, while Ron sunk down into his seat, muttering about already having food. Harry was not entirely stupid, though, so he bought extra and, once the trolley lady left, set about bullying Ron into accepting some. As he expected, it didn’t take too long – eleven-year-olds really didn’t have too much self-control. His own gum-chewing habits were a testament to that.

After a while, Ron pulled something out to show Harry – a fat grey blob with a long, pink tail. “His name’s Scabbers,” he said, “And he’s useless. Doesn’t do anything, just eats and sleeps. Used to be Percy’s until he got his owl, but Mum and Dad couldn’t aff – I got Scabbers instead.”

Harry eyed the rat. Scabbers certainly seem very active. “How old is he?”

“Dunno. Percy got him when he was little, found him in the back garden.”

“And Percy is…”

“My older brother,” Ron said, slightly gloomily. “I’ve got five, and a younger sister too. Bill, Charlie, Percy, Fred, George, me, and Ginny. Bill was Head Boy, Charlie was Quidditch Captain, Percy’s a Prefect, and Fred and George are just funny… and Ginny’s the only girl, I guess. Dunno what I’ll do.”

“You’ll figure something out,” Harry assured him, unwrapping a piece of gum and swatting Scabbers away from his half-finished cauldron cake. “That’s how it goes in big families.”

“You got any si – well, cousins, I guess?” Ron asked, picking up Scabbers and feeding him a Fudge Fly.

Harry paused. “It’s complicated.”

“How?” Ron asked. When Harry paused, he quickly backpedalled, “You don’t have to! I was just curious.”

“Nah, it’s fine, I was just wondering how to…” Harry paused. “See, I’ve got my godfather, Uncle Padfoot, and Uncle Moony, they’re friends of my dad. Then Aunt Amy and Crazy Aunt River, they’re my mom’s cousins, and then their husbands, Uncle Rory and Uncle Doctor. But there was this accident when Aunt Amy was a kid, with a time turner… anyway, Aunt River is technically Aunt Amy’s daughter, but because of the accident, she’s really more a sister. It gets confusing.”

Ron blinked. “Whoa, no kidding, that is nuts. Must be a Potter thing.”

“Possibly,” Harry said gravely, “Though I suspect it comes more from Aunt Amy’s side of the family. My father’s side is more likely to blow up a toilet or something.”

Ron snorted. “Fred and George reckon they’re going to send Ginny a toilet seat. Mum told them not to blow the loo up, and well, there you are.”

Harry thought back to the twins’ appearance, speech, and prompt disappearance. “Sounds about right.”

There was another, more comfortable, silence, before Ron spoke up again. “Can I ask a question?”

“Shoot.”

“Do you really have the scar.”

“Yup,” Harry replied, pushing up his fringe.

“Wicked,” Ron breathed.

Harry shrugged. “I dunno. Would have preferred something a bit more… _metal_ , you know. I survived the Killing Curse and all I got was this stupid scar.”

* * *

“Have you seen a toad? A boy named Neville’s lost one.”

“Check the bathrooms,” Harry suggested. “It’s a toad, after all”

“Oh, I guess… wow, you’re Harry Potter! I’ve read all about you!”

“I object to the second paragraph in _The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts_ ,” Harry grumbled. “It makes me sound like Batman.”

“But – you defeated Lord Voldemort!” the girl waved her arms in the air as Ron nearly fell off his chair.

“I was _one_ ,” Harry emphasized. “Anyway, you’re scaring Ron.”

“Why would I be scaring Ronald?”

“You said his name!” Ron exclaimed. “You don’t just say his name!”

“Uncle Padfoot reckons the name used to have a Taboo curse on it,” Harry added sagely. “It let them track anyone who was brave enough to say Voldypants’s name and murder them.”

“…Oh.”

“Do you need help finding the toad?”

“Oh, no, Neville and I will just keep looking,” the girl said waving her hand and starting to leave.

“You never gave us your name,” Harry pointed out.

“Oh! I’m Hermione Granger. I, um… I’m going to go check the bathrooms, now.”

“Pain, that one,” Ron mumbled, after the door was closed.

“Socially awkward only child,” Harry noted. “Probably quite smart, but will need to learn how not to scare people away.”

“How d’you know?”

“I live with a man-child with no sense of stop, a werewolf who happens to be dating the man-child, a nurse who once spent 2000 years waiting – word to the wise, Ron, never mess with a time-turner if you don’t know what you’re doing, it fricks crud up – a very sassy and somehow mostly stable ginger whose daughter is the same age as she is, an aunt who always has ‘Crazy’ tacked onto her name, and the guy who married her. Psychology is a piece of cake.”

“…What?”

* * *

“So, Charlie deals with dragons,” Ron explained.

“Ooh, dragons, that sounds cool. Never seen one of them.”

“It’s dangerous, but he likes it.”

Harry nodded. “Yeah. I might consider that… damn sight better than those freaking _peg dolls_ …”

Right as Ron was going to ask exactly what eldritch abomination the peg dolls had been, the door to the compartment popped open again and Harry began wondering if they had slipped back into the early Victorian Era, when people intentionally popped over for all of two seconds and thoroughly bothered you. Then again, there was a distinct lack of Lizard People and Potatoes.”

“They’re saying Harry Potter’s on the train,” the gate-crasher announced, looking down his nose at the two boys with grey eyes uncannily similar to and yet completely different to Sirius’s. “So.”

Ron glared. Harry settled for bland staring. It was, apparently, a good trick for convincing people you were either insane or a mass murderer, if you asked Sirius.

Or tripping on something, as Rory said in a rather disgruntled tone after they got pulled over halfway down the motorway.

It worked, though.

* * *

“So, you’re Harry Potter.”

Harry turned around to see Ron glaring and the gate-crasher from earlier looking imperiously at him. “Okay, you know my name. Bit creepy, but I guess it’s a magic thing. Who’re you?”

“I’m Draco, Draco Malfoy. And this is Crabbe and Goyle.”

Harry blinked at him for a moment before grinning. “You’re Uncle Siri’s cousin once removed!” He bounced over and threw his arms around the blonde’s shoulders. “More family!”

 _What are you doing?_ Ron mouthed over Draco’s shoulder.

 _Having fun, duh,_ Harry mouthed back, before yelling, in a fairly good imitation of Sirius, “We’ve got to meet up over the holidays! Da reckons he hasn’t seen your mum in AGES!”

“What in the name of Merlin, Potter?” Draco squeaked. “Let go, you’re crinkling my robes!”

“Aw,” Harry said, and let go. “Okay then. Bye, Draco.” And he trotted back over to Ron.

“What just happened?” A puzzled looking blonde asked his neighbour.

The girl shook her head and shrugged, pigtails bouncing.

* * *

“Sort me already,” Harry moaned. “My leg’s going to sleep.”

“I was not meant to sort time travellers,” the hat told him crossly.

“Just put me somewhere! I don’t care if it’s Slytherin,” Harry whined. “I’ve been here for ages.”

“You’ve been here for three minutes.”

Harry fidgeted.

“Fine. Your mind is getting blurry anyway. GRYFFINDOR!”

There was an explosion of cheering from the red house as Harry put the hat back on the school, grinned widely at Professor McGonagall, and skipped over to sit down next to yet another redhead (probably Percy).

Up at the head table, Dumbledore watched the boy with curiosity. He was unharmed, good, but something wasn’t quite what he remembered. One or two traits that couldn’t possibly be Harry’s alone…

* * *

“Harry, watch out for the – WHAT THE FU – FUUDGE. CORNELIUS FUDGE.”

“Geronimooo…made it!” Harry cheered, standing on the detached far side of the staircase.

“Harry,” Percy moaned, “You can’t just jump across the stairs like that!”

“They won’t kill me,” Harry scoffed. “And if they do, then at least you know they’re definitely enough to keep you safe from errant Dark Lords.”

“Turn around, Gryffindor,” Percy sighed. “We’ll take the long route. Harry, how are you getting to the tower?”

“Oh, it’s okay,” Harry chirped. “I got directions from my Uncles.”

And, true enough, Harry was already there (having a civil conversation with Peeves, of all things!) when the Prefect rounded the corner to Gryffindor tower.

“Hang on,” Hermione exclaimed. “It says in _Great Wizarding Events of the 20 th Century_ that Harry only has one Uncle and one Aunt!”

Ron blinked. “Your book’s wrong. He has four uncles, an Aunt, and a half-Aunt-half-Cousin.”

“A _what?_ ”

“Caput Draconis! Boys on the left, girls on the right. Harry, do not try to climb the girl’s staircase,” Percy groaned.

“How crazy does he think I am?” Harry whispered to Ron. “I’m not shimmying all the way up that wall. Honestly.”

“You really are something else, Harry,” the redhead noted.

“So I hear.”

* * *

_Dear Father_

_Harry Potter has not rejected me. He has, in fact, decided to hug my and declare we need to meet up over the holidays (VERY LOUDLY. It’s frightful). This is apparently because Mother hasn’t met his uncle (he also calls the man ‘Da’. I’m rather confused) in 10 years._

_What’s going on?!_

_Yours,_

_Draco_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a weird style when writing these. Very segmenty, scene-based. Huh.


	5. The Hungry Wizard

In all honesty, Ron probably thought Harry was absolutely insane, but then again, most of Gryffindor seemed to have some form of mental instability, so it wasn’t as if Harry stood out _that_ badly; in any case, that was what he told himself as he cheerfully packed up his bag for the day ahead. Harry wasn’t exactly looking forward to the monotonous routine of scholarly life, as Sirius liked to put it, especially since he was on strict orders not to steal any forms of transport while he was at it. Seven years was an awfully long time to go without blowing something up, turning someone’s worldview on its head, or accidentally attracting an entire platoon of confused aliens, but on the bright side, he was under orders ‘not to screw with the humans’ and to ‘avoid detention’, not necessarily to ‘be a good child’. Considering the potential of some of the spells he’d glimpsed in the books he was now stuffing haphazardly into his bag, classes couldn’t be _that_ boring, and in any case, if they were, he could always just jump out a window.

“You’re eager,” Ron commented, an inkling of confusion on his face as Harry squeezed his pencilcase in between _The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1_ and _A History of Magic._ “You know it’s a school day, right?”

“Well, yes, I do,” Harry replied, frowning slightly as he threw the bag over his shoulder. “And there’s waking up early and routine and all that gross stuff. But we also get to learn _magic_ , Ron.”

“Trust the one who nearly killed himself on the stairs without a bloody care to be excited about turning strings into wires,” Ron grumbled. “Have you seen Scabbers? He’s gone missing?”

“Nope,” Harry chirped. “He’s probably out exploring. A place can change a lot in a year, you know.”

“I suppose,” Ron agreed. “Breakfast?”

“Definitely,” Harry nodded gravely.

“Breakfast,” Harry said to nobody in particular, “Is the only meal in which you can eat sugar as the bulk of your meal and nobody questions you. This makes it the most important meal of the day – well, after midnight snacks, because that’s when fish-fingers and custard don’t get questioned. Midnight snacks and pregnancy. But I’m not pregnant.”

Lavender stared at him as if he’d started speaking Gallifreyan, a spoonful of porridge hanging halfway between her bowl and her mouth.

“What’s a fish finger?” Neville asked shyly. “I thought fish didn’t have any fingers.”

“You don’t know what a fish finger is?” Harry exclaimed indignantly. “Were you raised under a rock?”

“He was raised under his grandma,” Parvati whispered. “I met her at Diagon Alley. Close enough, I think.”

“How many other people at this table don’t know what a fish finger is?” Harry demanded.

Ron tentatively stuck his fork in the air.

Harry huffed. “Where are the kitchens?” he asked, glancing around at them all. “Anybody know?”

“Harry!” Hermione exclaimed. “You’re not allowed in the kitchens! You’ll get in trouble before we even get to class!” She clenched her hands nervously on the table, ignoring the other students’ irritated gazes.

“Probably, yes,” Harry agreed. “I mean, technically I got in trouble after the staircase incident, didn’t I? Anyway, how can you, Ron, not know what a fish finger is? You’ve eaten two plates of breakfast already!”

“Not whole, I hope,” Dean snorted.

“No, not whole, you don’t get the crunch if you don’t chew them… oh, no. The rest of our year is just as oblivious as you are, aren’t they?” Harry groaned and rubbed his forehead as, down the table, Percy Weasley gave him a _very_ cautious look.

“Probably. I don’t think pure-bloods eat fish fingers,” Seamus said. “They’re more a muggle thing.”

“That’s it. I’m introducing you all to the wonders of fish fingers and custard,” Harry said, jumping up and smacking his hand on the table.

“Harry,” Hermione begged, “ _Please_ at least wait until _after_ our first day of classes to get into trouble.”

Harry pouted. “Fine,” he grumbled, plopping back down into his seat and picking up his toast. “I will wait until after our first day of classes. And then, you will find out what wonders you have been missing.”

* * *

True to his word, Harry found ever class nearly as exciting as Hermione did, which was quite the achievement, considering, especially when his teachers were rapidly discovering that the 11-year-old was not in the slightest an ordinary child, or even three strange children stacked atop each other in a cloak. For all Harry’s enthusiasm, it was still _school,_ and nothing like the laissez-faire adventuring Harry was used to, but still, Harry enjoyed his day; it wasn’t exactly far off to believe, either, that Harry’s nature as a concentrated force of chaos might have… _mitigated_ the ordinary caveats of the educational institution.

For one thing, his levitating feather had shot out the window halfway through class and never come back.

“It’s the frame of reference,” he explained calmly as Hermione had a near-meltdown behind her. “At least, I think it is. Uncle Moony said something about intent? Anyway, if you think of it, gravity can work sideways as much as it works up and down – well, more like up and down is a matter of where the largest source of gravity is – so I suppose it levitated out to the forest somewhere. Professor Flitwick, can I have another feather?”

Flitwick frowned at the large hole in the glass. “No, Mr Potter, I think not. How about you practice levitating something heavier instead?”

“Teach me!” Ron exclaimed, as Harry picked up _The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1_ and started practicing with it. “I want to throw stuff out the window too!”

“Well, first of all, it’s more a floaty movement than a slashing one, unless you’re hoping to stab someone in the eye, which is honestly a genuine application of weaponry… eh, might stain the wood though,” Harry commented, letting the book drop with a thud onto the table in front of him. “Also, Hermione’s right. If you say the made-up words wrong, it won’t work as well. It’s psychological. I think. Uncle Doc reckons catchphrases put you in a frame of mind, anyway, and that’s why Auntie River is crazy. _Wingardium Leviosa_.”

“Um.” Ron blinked, watching Harry attempt to levitate his book at a 30 degree angle and promptly send it hurtling into a wall at high speed.

“Damn it, there must be a relation to gravity, maybe that’s why I lost the feather… Oh yeah, and remember the feather’s meant to go up instead of down. And don’t think of explosions too much, or your magic’ll do what Seamus’s did.”

“Blow up?”

“Blow up.”

After Ron left his feather permanently welded to the stone ceiling, Professor Flitwick decided Harry wasn’t allowed to teach his peers anymore.

“What did you use as your reference point?” Hermione gasped. She happened to be one of the quicker to ascribe to Harry’s theory, no matter how difficult it may have been to understand. “There’s no way any of us should have that much power!”

“I just wanted it to float off the table.”

“…the table. Holy cricket, Harry, he used the table.”

“Good,” Harry said decidedly. “You’re learning.”

* * *

“Do you even know what rum tastes like?”

“…no.”

“Right, there’s your problem. Have you considered red cordial?”

“Oh, Merlin,” Professor Sprout groaned. “Mr Potter, what are you pouring onto the puffapods?”

“Red cordial.”

“Why would you do that?”

“Well, it’s going to turn back into water later, and anyway, it’s better than letting Seamus drink it all.”

Professor Sprout eyed Seamus beadily. The other boy was hugging his plant and telling it his life story. It wasn’t a very long story, granted, but still, it was mildly concerning. “…Mr Potter, are you sure that’s red cordial?”

“It’s entirely possible he may have imbued it with properties akin to alcohol, Professor, but it is, physically, red cordial, soon to be water.”

“I see. Well, Mr Potter, keep Mr Finnigan safe, please. He’s going a little too close to the cross-breeds.”

“Yes, Professor.”

* * *

“…Harry?”

“Yes, Ron?”

“That’s not a needle.”

Harry picked up a syringe off his desk and inspected it. “Well, the end’s silver and pointy, isn’t it?” He turned it over in his hands, tapping the end carefully with the tip of his finger. Okay, so maybe he’d had vaccinations for every known disease in the universe, but it wasn’t like it had left a lasting impact on his psyche, honest!

“Can you make a _sewing_ needle?” Hermione asked testily. “Surely if you can make _that_ monstrosity you can make a simple _sewing_ needle.”

Harry aimed his wand at the syringe and a quarter hour later picked up the result. “Well…”

“Harry Potter, that is bright purple,” Hermione huffed, holding out her own, pointy, silver, match for comparison.

“At least it’s pointy.”

“Why does it smell like custard?” Ron asked, irritably poking his own match, which, while sharpened, had also caught fire.

“I got distracted.”

* * *

“Harry, where are you going?” Percy asked sharply, as Harry grabbed Ron by the collar and Neville by the sleeve.

“Kitchens. Have you seen them?”

“You’re not allowed in the kitchens,” Percy told him sternly. “They’re off-limits to students, even Prefects.”

“Oh, okay. Come on, everyone.”

“…where are you going now?”

Harry frowned. “Um… library?”

“Curfew for the lower years is in five minutes, Harry.” Percy crossed his arms. “In any case, that’s the worst lie I’ve ever heard, and Fred and George tried to convince Dad I was gay last year.”

“Dunno why we tried it, he’s a wet blanket. Depressed, more like,” George chirped from the other side of the room.

“Georgie, puns are beneath us.”

“Shh, Freddie, don’t give away our secrets.”

Percy huffed, and turned back to see Harry dragging half of Gryffindor’s first-years out the portrait hole. “POTTER!”

“RUN!” Harry yelped, and took off like a rocket. Having been dragged along, the other students didn’t have much other choice than follow him – so follow him they did.

“Do you have any idea where we’re going?” Neville wailed, stumbling along at high speed.

“Nope!”

“This was a bad idea!” Ron yelped. “We’re going to get caught by Filch! Or – something!”

“There’s no such thing as a bad idea, only good ideas that didn’t work!”

“TRUST ME, HARRY, I LIVE WITH FRED AND GEORGE, THERE ARE INDEED BAD IDEAS!”

“We’re going to get expelled,” Neville moaned.

“Nonsense, they’d suspend us first. Or give us lines or send us into the forest or something.”

“SEND US INTO THE –”

“Neville, you’re magic, they’re magic, nothing makes sense. Calm down, I didn’t learn how to identify twenty types of alien spider for nothing.”

Ron flinched even as they ran down the hallway. “There are HOW MANY types of alien spider?”

“Well, Uncle Doc says there’s at least thirty-five, but he blew a few up. Shame, really?”

“I think he’s doing the world a favour,” Ron said weakly, and Hary hummed in thought, but gave no further voice to the matter. 

They continued running for a good few minutes, before slowing to a stop, panting, in a small alcove on the fourth floor. “Do you two have _any_ idea where we are?” Harry asked, and as they shook their heads, he beamed. “Me neither. Think we can find Peeves?”

“Peeves? Why would you want to find Peeves?” Ron hissed.

“He’s scary,” Neville added.

“Yes, he is, he’s composed of the combined mischievous will of an entire school of magical children, not all of which are friendly children. It’s be a bit stupid if all he did was put whoopee cushions on chairs,” Harry told them briskly, wiping his hands on his robes. “But let’s face it, we’re sneaking into a corner of the castle on the sly to introduce society to a game-changer, I think he’ll be on our side, especially considering mustard looks a lot like custard if it isn’t too yellow.”

“…Harry.”

“Ron.”

“We’re going to get into so much trouble,” Neville groaned.

“Not if we play things right. Stay hidden there for a moment.”

“Wait!” Neville yelped. “Where are you going?”

“Don’t worry, I’m just going to smash this ink bottle against that ugly tapestry.”

“Harry,” Ron said slowly, “I think, since Percy isn’t here and Hermione seems like she’d take up the role, I have to tell you that, no matter how bloody ugly that thing is, it is also very old and valuable.”

“The ink’s washable. Permanent ink’s no fun, it doesn’t bleed everywhere when it rains. Toodle-pip for… three seconds.”

As it turned out, Harry was right in his suspicions about Peeves.

“Nasty teachers tried to imprison Peeves once, yes. Gave him lots and lots of weapons, and trapped him in a box.”

“What happened?” Harry asked, inspecting the box of fish fingers presented to him by the House-Elves.

“Peevsie got out!” the apparition said gleefully, and proceeded to bounce around the kitchen as if it wasn’t full of pots of hot water and sharp objects.

Meanwhile, Neville sat in the corner with a mug of hot cocoa as Ron cheerfully ate a carton of custard with a spoon. “This is… insane.”

“Boy-who-lived, mate.”

“We’re going to get into so much trouble.”

“Nah, we’ll pin it on Peeves. He’s a poltergeist, he won’t mind.”

“Isn’t that a bit rude?”

“He’s a poltergeist. Notoriety is his thing.”

“O – oh.”

“C’mon, Nev.” Ron gave Neville’s shoulder a gentle shove. “We’re Gryffindors! We’re not lost anymore, we – we can pull this off.”

“Harry intends on feeding us fish dipped in custard.”

“Fish _fingers_ , boys!” Harry called out, handing the box back. “Thank you, Tippy, that’s perfect. Now, Floppy – do you all have names like that? – where are the bandages?”

“Harry,” Neville asked, “Why do we need bandages?”

“Some people go insane when exposed to good food. I saw someone bang their head on a table once and I’m not having that on my record until I’m at least thirteen.”

“Should… shouldn’t you not want it on your record at all?” Ron asked. “Considering uh, Mum tends to…”

“Eh. Uncle Moony and Uncle Rory might be a bit cross, and Uncle Doc might wince a bit, but the other three will think it’s funny. Also, I’ve been running away from aliens since I was one, so honestly two years without causing any trouble is pretty good.”

* * *

“POTTER!”

Harry looked up from breakfast to see Professor Snape storming over to him, hair splattered with custard – or mustard? – and a fish finger stuck to his robes. “Professor?” he asked, tone as bland as if he had been asked about the weather. “Is something wrong?”

Snape, for his point, spluttered and huffed and made various other noises of anger.

“I don’t get it,” Harry grumbled, pouting slightly. “At least I’m eating them and not throwing them.”

As Professor Snape attempted to build up a head of steam, a fish finger flew through the air and hit Harry smack on the glasses, leaving a smear down the glass. Harry blinked, his vision suddenly obscured by something yellow. Mustard or custard. He couldn't be quite sure, really.

“Ah. Now I remember why we stopped doing this.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I... have been on a bit of a wobbly spell for the last month or two. Oh well. Hopefully this chapter is up to snuff.  
> I first started writing this chapter, like, a month ago. So... eh. I hope you can't spot the point where I left off and started up again.


End file.
